


The Reinhomies Go on an Adventure

by romansilver



Category: Kind Of - Fandom, One Piece
Genre: Gen, If you read this I love you, Lowkey assholery, Not In My House, OCs - Freeform, What's a canon character, emma parodies everything, highkey stupidity, im so sorry, this is horrible
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-07-28 08:01:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7631695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romansilver/pseuds/romansilver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reinhold sets off to explore the world he never knew. Everyone else is just going along for the ride.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Reinhold: The 17 year old toddler

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted to silversrayleigh.tumblr.com

Today was the day. Reinhold looked up at the sky, eyes scanning for clouds. Satisfied with the clear blue sky, he took steps from the worn-down cottage he lived in with his mother. He spent a few minutes of his time watching the birds fly by, and he felt the urge to laugh. He let out a loud “WHOOP WHOOP” which was followed by a loud “REINHOLD IF YOU DON’T GET YOUR ASS TO THE BOAT AND TAKE OFF YOU’RE NEVER GONNA LEAVE THIS DAMN ISLAND.”   
“I’m just taking a last glimpse of home, neena.”  
“You’ve been saying that for the last week, Rein.”  
“I just feel, you know, that feeling when you’re nostalgic.”  
“You mean nostalgia.”  
“Yeah! That. I’m gonna go now, neena.”  
“Take care, my sugar-cheeks Rein. Live the dream I never could.”

Reinhold smiled brightly. He turned and jogged backwards so he could wave to his mom. “Bye neena! I’ll definitely see your dream come true!”  
“Rein, watch out!”  
“Yeah, yeah, neena. I’ll be careful, you don’t need to more abou-“  
Reinhold found himself plummeting down a drop of a mighty height of two and a half feet. He slipped, and ended up rolling down the hill to the shore.  
“Aw crap, I got sand in my shoes. I’m never gonna get it out.”

He approached the boat, which was a brig that his mother had bought with her savings. It was by all accounts, an average ship. Fairly large, it probably could hold 10 people and a good amount of supplies. But to Reinhold, it was the most beautiful ship he’d ever seen (It was also the only ship he’d ever seen). He took a deep breath. It was his adventure. His time to shine. He was going to live the dream he and his mother had always dreamed of. “Neena, I’m gonna be an explorer!”

—————

Ever since he was a little boy, Reinhold had dreamed of seeing the world beyond the island he was born on. But he was always too small and his mother too frail for them to sail the big boat they had. So he would go and play on it, pretending he was a courageous and brave explorer, recruiting the crabs on the beach as his trusty crewmates. He spend his days out there, until night fell and his mother went out and found him, stretched out on the deck, staring at the stars. He’d tell her then, he remembered fondly, that she told him that there are as many islands in the sea as there are stars in the sky. Every night, under the stars, he would say the same thing.

Reinhold managed to get the boat into the water, using his limited boat skill to unfurl the sails and took his position at the front of the ship. He waited for the winds to blow and push the boat whatever way. That’s what boats did, right?

He waited a while. The winds did not respond. “Hey wind! Can you help me sail out of here, please?” The winds, again, did not respond. “Pretty please? With a cherry on top!” The winds seemed mightily unimpressed with his request. He sat down with a flop. “Hmm, maybe if I wrote the wind a song, it would listen!”

Two hours later, Reinhold was pondering over the words to his song. “Blow me to the sea!” “No, that just sounds… wrong. Oh, I got it!”

Winds sing your song  
Carry me along  
Away towards the sea  
It’s time to be free  
Wind push this boat  
And keep me afloat  
Until the time  
I can’t think of a rhyme

Reinhold was awful pleased with himself. He had just written a song! This was a major accomplishment and he deserved some of the food that his mother had packed for him. He went to open it, but it looked so nice and neatly packed. He couldn’t ruin that. That would be an insult to good packing everywhere.

Reinhold waited, and waited. The sun went down, streaking the sky scarlet, pink and brilliant orange. Reinhold laid down on his back. He loved this part of the day the most, when the sun’s bright colors fade to the reassuring twinkle of the stars in the sky. Reinhold counted them as they came up, 1, 2, 6, 17, until he couldn’t keep track. He stared at them for a while, remembering the quiet nights with his mother. He said to her, even though she wasn’t there, what he always said.  
“Neena, I’m going to explore the stars one day.”

—————

Reinhold couldn’t sleep that night. He remembered something he had forgotten that day. How could he have forgotten? His powers, of course! Reinhold had once found a strange fruit on the island, growing from one of the tall trees that swayed in the wind. He showed it to his mother, who smiled and said, “Rein, think carefully before you eat strange fruit.” Reinhold ate it anyway.  
At first it was odd. Every so often he could create candy out of nothing. He usually used it to feed his mother and him in the winter, when the plants didn’t grow and the animals hid away to escape the cold. He experimented with it. He could create this round balls that were very hard, but if you sucked on them they were very sweet. Occasionally he threw them at trees to get the fruit down without climbing the tree itself. He could create a wobbly red thing, which was very hard to move in. Reinhold knew this because he got trapped in a mound of it and couldn’t move. He and his mother had to eat him out of it. He was sick for days. Reinhold was always playing around with his “blessing.” He could create sticky pink goop that stuck things together. Those were fun, because you could make bubbles with them. It was always fun (and tasty!) with his powers.

His mother told him there were others like him. She also told him never to go into the water. Ever. He was curious about both.

—————

The next morning, Reinhold found himself drifting in the ocean. The wind had picked up while he was reminiscing about his powers and his mother. It ruffled his hair, making it look like a tornado had hit a purple mop. He pulled it up into his classic ponytail before scanning the ocean for land. He saw nothing, but he wasn’t surprised.

It had been hours since Reinhold had first surveyed the ocean in front of him. He saw nothing, but he kept looking, over and over. The sun was baking down on his back, but the smell of salt water was refreshing and new. He saw a spot on the horizon, coming closer and closer, from behind him. At first he thought it was an island. But as it got closer, he realized it was a boat. It was much smaller than his, a tiny little thing. It was beat up, with loose planks, and being rowed by a small guy with a broken oar and a broom. Reinhold hollered a big “Ahoy!” to this stranger, who looked up and began rowing with a little more urgency. The boat gained ground in the water (lmao) and Reinhold could see that the guy was wearing a hat with a cat on it, holding a mug. It said “Whisker’s Beer is the Cat’s Meow!”

“Oi! Throw down a rope!” The stranger yelled. Reinhold scrambled for the rope and tossed it into the water. The stranger let go of his oars and lunged for it, attempting to pull himself up. His process was slow and tedious, and it took him climbing and Reinhold pulling before the guy collapsed onto the deck.

He struggled to his feet and thwack!  
Reinhold felt the pain blossom on the back of his head.   
“You idiot! What if I was a pirate?!” The man exclaimed angrily.

“What’s a pirate?”  
“You are honest to god telling me you don’t know what a pirate is.”  
“Is that a bad thing?”  
“We live in the GREAT AGE OF PIRATES and you don’t know what a fucking PIRATE is?”  
“I guess so…”

The man pulled out a poster of a kid, probably around Reinhold’s age, wearing a snazzy straw hat and a big goofy grin.  
“He looks like he’d be a good friend!” Reinhold exclaimed. “But why did he lose all that money?”  
 “He’s not a good friend. He’s a pirate. He goes around robbing and killing people in order to be on the top. They’re everywhere.”  
“But why is there money?”  
“Listen, ponytail, he’s worth that money. He’s a bad guy, okay? A robber and a killer. So if you ever see a ship with a black flag, we aren’t gonna throw them a rope, okay?”

“We?”  
“Yeah. I don’t know where you’re going, but I can’t sail around in that piece of crap anymore, or I’ll sink. So just drop me off at the nearest island and I’ll figure something out there.”  
“Okay. I have a few questions.”  
“Yes?”  
“First, what’s your name? Second, why are you so small? Third, what is Whisker’s beer?”

“My name is Amyr. I’m small because I didn’t fucking grow and it doesn’t mean anything, you fucking tall bastard. Third, Whisker’s Beer is the magical elixir of the world, the nectar of humanity, the best drink you’ll ever taste. You got me? Whisker’s Beer. Is. The. Shit.”  
“Hi Amyr! I’m Reinhold, it’s nice to meet you!”  
“Oh boy, you’re one of those guys, aren’t you. Cheerful, oblivious, dumb, and totally obnoxious. I’m regretting this already.”  
“Oh yeah! Amyr! Do you know how to steer a ship?"  
"No, do you?"  
"No."

"Well fuck."


	2. The Brat, the Bitch, and the Badass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reinhold is an "obnoxious brat", Amyr is a "pathetic wimp", and their new friend is a badass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize in advance because Amyr is a wimp.

it was three days before Reinhold and Amyr drifted to an island, which, for Reinhold was “quality bonding time,” and for Amyr was “my first three days in hell.” Amyr looked back on that as he watched the island in the distance steadily grow closer.

The first day started off fine, if fine could be used to describe a person’s first day on a ship with quite possibly the most naive person in the world. Reinhold started by waking him up when the sun was just rising over the horizon. Amy sprung up, as Reinhold looked genuinely shocked, scared even, but when the boy led him outside and pointed to the deck, saying, “what is that, what is that?” over and over in a weak voice, that Amyr felt the beginning of a monumental headache.  
“It’s a seagull, Reinhold.”  
“A seagull? Can it hurt us? Why is it here? Why is it white? Does it talk? Can it talk to us?”  
“Reinhold, its a bird no bigger than your head, how on earth can it hurt you?”

The seagull, in a remarkable show of awareness, promptly flew at Reinhold’s head, clawing at his messy hair as if it was trying to snatch away his head. Reinhold, for what it was worth, was doing ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to swat it away, and instead was cowering in a ball on the deck.

Amyr spent the better half of two hours swatting angrily at the bird, who, for some reason, would not go away. After a particularly ferocious battle—during which Amyr thought to himself many times “Why am I doing this. This is not what I wanted. Why me?—the seagull flew away, leaving Reinhold on the deck, his hair even messier. Amy was about to ask if he was alright when Reinhold started to laugh. He smiled up at Amyr and said, simply, “Well that was an adventure! I can’t wait to tell my mom!”

Amyr was affronted. He had spent two hours trying to save this sobbing kid from a seagull and he goes back to being a cheerful and obnoxious brat three minutes later. Goddamnit. He had stormed off, intent on getting a few more hours of sleep to reward him from his valiant struggle.

The second day was worse. Reinhold had insisted on getting him up at the crack of dawn, again. This time, there was the demand of “I can’t sleep, lets play tag!” Reinhold proceeded to steal Amyr’s Whisker’s Beer cap (mind you, this wasn’t no ordinary cap, this was the cap or eternal brotherhood). Amyr ended up chasing the little brat around the entire ship, because goddamn that kid was fast? How was is possible to be so fast on those short little legs of his? It only struck Amyr later that Reinhold was at least 15 cm taller than his 163.43 cm. Other than that, the kid was filled with boundless energy, which he showed as he scampered up the mast of the ship, waving the cap like a flag from the crow’s nest like a token of victory. Just as Amyr climbed up, Reinhold easily jumped down, and disappeared down into the hold. 

Amyr gave up after that. He was athletic, but he wasn’t THAT athletic. He liked to think of himself as “fittingly fit.” Not too active, but just enough to get by. So Amyr sat in the crow’s nest, mourning the loss of his cap and cursing at the little purple haired demon who had possession of his most treasured possession.

The third day was hell incarnate. Reinhold was bored by then. He had given Amyr’s cap back, saying “I don’t see what’s so special, I thought it’d have cool powers, but it’s just a hat.” He proceeded to sit down on the deck, before rolling around the deck. He tried to occupy himself by making animal sounds, starting with basic sounds like “moo for cow”, “quack for duck”, “meow for cat (like your hat, Amyr!)” before it eventually disintegrated into “walla walla bang bang for the walbangachi” which Amyr knew wasn’t a real animal.

He then decided to attempt to cook, and served Amyr his “gourmet creation” which was oranges dipped in soy sauce covered in wasabi. Amyr spent hours violently wretching over the side of the ship and praying that the fish wouldn’t try to kill him in his sleep for poisoning them with whatever Reinhold had made.

Sometime between “wiggity wong ba dong” and Amyr puking his guts out, Reinhold had taken to trying to find a nickname for Amyr. “Myr! Myr-myr! Man-myr!” was what he started with. This was followed by “Myraculous” as well as “Amyrie.” Right before bed, when Amyr had closed his eyes and gotten comfortable, Reinhold had come barging in and half-said half-shouted, “Goodnight, Myracle!” and Amyr wanted to punch him so hard that his nose went out the other side of his head. But he didn’t. Because he’s a good guest.

That was what led Amyr to standing on the deck, gazing at the hazy gray landform in front of him. He had decided already, that he was gonna skedaddle as soon as they docked, work himself on whatever island they landed on until he had enough money to get home, and leave Reinhold and his wild ponytail and slightly too loud voice behind for some other poor soul to deal with.

It was hours until they landed, and night was falling by the time they had managed to anchor their ship in the marina. Amyr hopped right overboard, and was about to run and leave Reinhold to his own devices when a woman strode up. 

She was muscular, with tan skin and bulging biceps that had Amyr thinking that his “fittingly fit” looked “pathetically wimpy.” Her hair was black and styled into a mohawk. She had tattoos all over her body, from flowers, to sig sagged lines, to sunsets, and one heart shaped tattoo with “mom” on the center. Amyr snickered at that, and then gulped when he met the woman’s eyes.

She had a face that could have made her the talk of the town if she had decided against the strong and terrifying look. But what was most scary about her wasn’t her intimidating appearance or the guns that Amyr had just spotted hanging from her waistband. It was the way she looked at him, like she wouldn’t hesitate to shoot him down if so much as said one wrong word.

She said nothing, just glared at him, and Amyr was so paralyzed with fear that he wasn’t aware of his surroundings until he heard Reinhold’s cheerful (How was he cheerful? They were staring death in the face) voice, saying “Hi! I’m Reinhold! this is Amyr, we’re explorers looking for adventures and we were hoping if you knew someone who wanted to come on adventures with us!”

The woman’s eyes narrowed, and Amyr was in the middle of thinking “Reinhold, you fucked up” when the woman let out a hearty laugh. Her eyes crinkled at the corners as she shook Reinhold’s hand. “Hi young man, my name’s Octavie. Adventurers, you say? We thought you might have been pirates. Now come on, the sun will be down soon and the fog will roll in.” Octavie looked scared.

“What’s wrong with a little fog?” Amyr asked, shocked that of all the things that this lady could be scared of, it was FOG that freaked her out.

“This ain’t no normal fog, Amyr. This is the fog in the night. I’ll tell you about it when we get to the inn.”

After Reinhold and Amyr were treated to a hearty meal of soup and bread, they settled around Octavie, sitting on cushions on the floor while Octavie sat in a big arm chair. Amyr was struck by how it seemed like two kids crowding around their grandmother for a story.

“The fog happened about 15 years ago. at first, we thought it was normal, just a little fog, it had been rainier than usual, after all. But then the children went missing. We searched all over for them, thinking they had just run off, but were couldn’t find them. More and more of them disappeared. And it was the ones that went out at night. That’s why I’ve hidden you all here. If this kid,” and Octavie pointed at Reinhold, “gets stuck in that fog, I have no doubt whoever’s behind this will snatch him up like a baby snatching candy from their mother.”

“You think someone’s behind it?” Amyr asked, trying not to sound too interested in whatever was happening. He just wanted to get out of here.

“We know someone’s behind it. The fog’s thick, but closer to the bottom. You know, eye level with the children. Fog doesn’t roll like that. And if you look real close on moonlit nights, you can see them, the figures lurking in the mist.”

“We gotta save them!” Reinhold jumped to his feet. “We gotta find them, they’re just kids!” Octavie raised an eyebrow. “You’re just a kid,” she replied. 

“Actually, he’s 17,” Amyr bit back the urge to smirk at Octavie, as he got the feeling he’d get a nice punch to the mouth if he did.

“I know we gotta save them. Or at least, do something. But no one else agrees with me. ‘It’ll stop when the fog stops’ they say, or ‘we’ll find them soon, they’re just lost’. It’s bullshit.”

“We’ll help you! I’ve got skills! And Amyr, he’s brave! He once saved me from a seagull!”  
“A seagull huh.”  
Amyr found this a good time to butt in, “What kind of skills do you have, the skills of unfailing optimism?”

“No, I can do this!” Reinhold focused his energy, and from it he pulled from his hand a long, thick rope that looked very familiar. He wrapped it deftly around Amyr’s hands, saying “Tada!”  
“Wait, Reinhold, is this licorice?”  
“Um, I’m not sure. What’s licorice?”  
Octavie knelt down to inspect the ropes. “Yes, it is licorice. This kid’s gotta Devil Fruit power.”  
Amyr paled. “Not him, not Reinhold. He’s too naive to have one.”  
“Sure looks like it, huh, Whiskey?”  
“This can’t be. and what’s with the ‘Whiskey’?”  
Octavie pointed to his cap. “Whisker’s Beer, you like alcohol, I thought it was clever.”

Octavie turned back to Reinhold, a serious look on her face. “Well kid, if you get caught, you’re in double the trouble. You don’t know how powerful you are. but at the same time, you might be just what we need to get the kids back. If you really wanna help, meet me by the bell when it rings six times. I’ll see you two there.”  
“You two?” Amyr asked.  
“Yes, you wouldn’t abandon your poor kid friend like that, would ya Whiskey?”  
She said it with the tone that meant “if you even think about saying yes I will beat your ass into next week. So Amyr swallowed his pride, and his plans for escape, and said “We’ll be there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> loofays on tumblr did incredible fan art of Octavie. Go check out her blog.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amyr finally grows a pair. Good job.

The sun was creeping down to the earth, and the sky was streaked with orange and pink. Reinhold was bouncing around, fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt and tying and then re-tying his ponytail, asking Amyr over and over again, "When do you think the bell will ring?" The bell had rung before, first once, then three times, then four, and then back to two. There was a time when the bell rang five times, and Amyr held his breath until he couldn't breathe, gasping for air after no ringing followed the fifth.

A young girl, about ten years old, had brought them dinner. It was a meager meal of soup and bread. Reinhold became friends with the girl, named Aimee. He conjured lollipops for her, and she told him jokes. Amyr had casually mentioned it was getting dark, and Aimee took it upon herself to tell the two the story of the island.

When Aimee was 6, her brother Billy had disappeared into the mist. He had left her a locket with a picture of him and a message, reading only "I have gone to do my duty." He was 16, so the village decided he could care for himself. Their father wasn't satisfied with that response. Every day, he would wander the mountains in search of his son, and he would stay out late, much later than when the fog rolled in. He would stay out the night and come home in the morning. That was how they knew only children disappeared.

But one night her father didn't come home. They found his body the next day, frozen in an odd contorted angle, as if he had fallen and couldn't move. Clutched in his hand was a note. "Stop searching," was all it said. Aimee's mother lost herself to grief, fading into a shadow of her former self.

It was then Octavie took Aimee in. Aimee lived in the relatively large house with Octavie and 12 other kids, who had lost their parents in varying accidents. A few more came after her, even younger than her. But one by one, the children began disappearing from the house. There was only Aimee, a 8 year old boy named Mark, and a 3 year old nicknamed Bubby left.

Aimee pulled out a picture of a young woman, with long silky black hair and a kind smile. She had a pink dress on, with ruffles at the neckline. Amyr wondered if this was Aimee's mother. Reinhold, standing next to him, commented, "Wow, Octavie looks so different!" and Amyr choked on his own saliva. That young woman with the kind smile and gentle face was Octavie? There was nothing kind and gentle about Octavie.

They were interrupted by the bell, ringing six times. Reinhold jumped up, declaring, "We gotta go! Bye Aimee! We'll bring Billy back." He all but sprinted out the door, heading toward the bell tower. Amyr rose as well, ready to march to his doom, when Aimee pressed something into his hand. "For luck," she said.

Octavie was waiting at the bell tower, arms crossed in front of her. She smiled as she saw them approach, two different smiles for two different people. When she saw Reinhold, her smile was the same gentle smile as in the old photo. When she saw Amyr, her smile was razor-sharp, both a challenge and a threat. Amyr gulped, trying not to show the fact he was 0.25 seconds away from pissing himself. Octavie gave Reinhold a backpack, before tossing one to Amyr. "Double standards," Amyr muttered, but he opened the pack anyway. Inside were snacks (Power Punch juice box, carrot sticks, and a chocolate chip cookie), a canteen of water, two long, thin, wickedly sharp knives, and some grey capsules ("Smoke pellets," Octavie remarked). After the equipment check, the trio set off into the night.

The sky had almost turned black, the last shreds of indigo-violet fading as the stars began to twinkle. The fog rolled in, settling around them, up to Octavie's thighs and Amyr's diaphragm. Amyr could feel it seeping beneath his skin, settling into his bones and his blood. He looked at Octavie, who had clenched her jaw and drawn her eyebrows together, and Amyr would have been snarky, but he was glad he wasn't the only one suffering. Only Reinhold was full of energy, clam boring over rocks, stage whispering, "Come on, hurry!"

The fog was cold, sapping his strength and numbing him to his core. Reinhold turned to him and Octavie again, whispering "Come o-" But he never finished his sentence. His face was obscured, and shadowy figures grabbed his arms and dragged him away. Amyr tried to lunge for him, but his numb feet wouldn't cooperate. Next to him, Octavie's arms hung loosely from her sides, as she couldn't muster the strength to lift them. It was when Reinhold cried out "Guys?" Small and confused, that Amyr snapped out of it. His blood ran hot, his heart molten, and he ran after them, yelling unintelligably. Although he reacted first, Octavie soon came up behind him, hands clenched into fists. The thought of danger had vanished from his mind, replaced by the sound of Octavie swearing under her breath and their footfalls echoing through the night.

They ran ahead blindly, coming across a door in the cliff side of a mountain. It was cleverly disguised, the lock blending in with the cliff face. In fact, they never would have seen it at all if Amyr, unable to stop himself, hadn't run into it, the hollow sound a dead giveaway. 

Amyr tried the lock, but it was impossible to pull with strength alone. He was about to resign himself, suggest they find another way in, when Octavie pulled a gun from her belt and shot, not at the lock but at the hinges of the door. It collapsed inward with a bang, destroying any subtlety they might have had. Octavie said something Amyr couldn't hear, gesturing at his pack, and Amyr pulled out his knives, stepping into the dark passage, Octavie three steps behind, gun drawn for whatever might happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was wild. Edited some stuff from the tumblr original to elaborate.


End file.
